


the ball you never spiked

by sylveonimbus (cloud_sakura)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Crack, Fluff, M/M, denial is not a river in Egypt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 12:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3290114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloud_sakura/pseuds/sylveonimbus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bokuto has interesting nightmares.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the ball you never spiked

**Author's Note:**

> i'm only about 50% sorry. this is mostly (all) talia's fault. not really a parody but it's preferred that y'all read [the jacket you never returned](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2228061) before you read this or it won't make much sense sorry.

"NO!!! THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE!!! I WILL NOT HAVE THIS," there is screaming from the rooftop room, and then Bokuto Koutarou runs downstairs, the entire house shaking from the footsteps, and faces his tired mother sitting at the breakfast table with wide eyes. He's still in his pajamas.

"Have I forgotten someone?" he asks, very directly.

His mother blinks at him from over her fifth cup of coffee. She works 48 hours in a row most days so Bokuto gives up and pulls out the contacts list on his phone. It looks a little worse for wear since he sleeps with it at night but it doesn’t look tampered with, at least.

2 text messages from Hinata Shouyou. 5 text messages from Kuroo Tetsurou. a Whatsapp video from Haiba Lev (of what looks like a headstand? Bokuto would be invested as fuck if he wasn’t having an identity crisis), 1 text message from –

Bokuto sighs in relief and finally collapses into a chair. Yeah. Okay. That's his name. It's real. Fine.

“Koutarou, aren't you kind of...early?” his mother looks at the clock on the mantelpiece and back at him, even though her laptop is right in front of her. Really, _parents_.

“It's fine, I'll run to school today.” he assures her, feeling his peace of mind slowly return. At least he remembers.

“Well, be careful of the traffic. some kid got hit by a car the other day and had a concussion, at least he didn't get amnesia like the newspaper stories all love to say though...” she trails off, looking at his (extremely white) face. “Koutarou?”

"I...think I'll just have you drive me later, mom."

***

_From Koutarou to Akaashi!! [4:45]_

Hey, hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you, do you play the violin?!

_From Akaashi Keiji to Bokuto K [4:47]_

What.

_From Koutarou to Akaashi!! [4:47]_

It’s just a question!

_From Akaashi Keiji to Bokuto K [4:58]_

Bokuto-san, it’s five in the morning. And no, I’m a volleyball player, what on earth gave you that idea?

_From Koutarou to Akaashi!! [4:59]_

IT WAS JUST A QUESTION

_From Akaashi Keiji to Bokuto K [5:15]_

Go to sleep, Bokuto-san.

_From Koutarou to Akaashi!! [5:16]_

DON'T GO TO SLEEP AKAASHIIIIIIII

***

“Is Bokuto-san being weird today?”

Akaashi stops to look at Megumi-chan, who’s staring in confusion at the direction where Bokuto started running after aiming a horrified look at them. “He probably remembered that he has a project to submit today.”

“And of course, being the team dad, he has to take care of our captain every now and then, doesn’t he?” Onaga is an impudent brat who should not even be on this floor, and Akaashi turns to glare at him. “Don’t think I don’t know about the test results due tomorrow as well.”

That makes the boy pale and back off, and Megumi-chan giggles into her hand. Akaashi shakes his head, making an annoyed sound, and stalks away to class on his own.

***

There’s definitely something wrong with the captain today, Konoha muses. Usually he’s a stupidly happy personality that ticks him off but is easy to get along with, but today he had actually glared at him when he got the window seat before him, instead of trying to trick him out of it.

Bokuto doesn’t get angry, which is why he finds himself slightly terrified at first (although unless he discovered Konoha’s secret stash of porn featuring girls who all slightly look like a familiar setter he’s not sure what he’s done to earn his wrath), but then he slumps down in a chair not next to the window, and this time Konoha’s eyebrows shoot up past his hairline, because a class where Bokuto isn’t hooting at potential owls in the trees outside isn’t a proper class.

(Once a girl threw her shoe at him from under the tree because she thought she was the one being catcalled. Good times.)

Even the teacher is side-eyeing him, which is why it’s relief when Bokuto reaches down into his bag to get his pens out and looks puzzled as his hand comes out empty.

“Uh,” he says, and Konoha always thought this only happened in kid’s anime, but the class actually seems to breathe a collective sigh of relief.

“Oh yeah, I think he always forgets –”

“He needs a pencil, doesn’t he?” Konoha says suddenly; dread curling in the pit of his stomach. 

“Tai, give Bokuto-kun a pencil,” a girl calls from the back of the class, sounding amused, and an unsuspecting transfer student passes one to him. “Wait, DON’T ACTUALLY –”

“ _DON'T GIVE BOKUTO A PENCIL,_ ” five people yell from different directions, but Bokuto picks up the pencil and –

– begins to write. In his notebook. 

The pencil doesn't break. He does not accidentally stick it up his nose. The fan does not detach itself from the ceiling. None of the windows break. The teacher is still alive.

The aforementioned teacher blinks at the sight, and then sits down, and then proceeds to take out tissues from her bag.

At lunch the rumour of resident volleyball ace and walking disaster Bokuto Koutarou making Yoshida-sensei cry with pride finally becomes a legend.

***

“NO, AKAASHI, YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND, HE LITERALLY DIDN’T DO ANYTHING TO THE PENCIL.”

“I fail to see how that’s a problem?” he says, and Komi starts shaking his head frantically. “No, you really don’t understand, last year he literally wrecked the entire room, he’s only allowed to use pens, I was sure the school had some sort of ban on him –”

“You all overreact so much,” he replies and concentrates on slamming the ball down on the other side. On the other side he sees Sarukui striking up an urgent conversation with one of the other second years in the B team, and the coach yells at them to get their asses in gear. Really, he thought the team was over babying Bokuto too much at this point.

That’s the moment when the captain walks in, and then even Akaashi stops to stare, because his normally spiky hair is down, and while it’s supposed to look good (logically, _anything_ should be better than the awful spike), he actually just looks like he just took the ice bucket challenge. It’s...

( _adorable._ )

“Did an owl finally puke in your hair?” Konoha chortles, and then more or less the entire team bursts into snickering. Bokuto looks indignant, but then he catches sight of Akaashi’s face.

Akaashi doesn’t know what exactly his expression is, but it must be good, because Bokuto perks up, and he decides he’s spoiled him enough for the day. He aims the next toss at Konoha, and it’s a perfect spike on the other side of the court.

(He completely misses Bokuto’s crestfallen expression.)

***

He has missed 25 of the spikes sent to him at different angles and this is when Akaashi begins to consider that things might be terribly, terribly wrong. One of the second years is keeping count, and their spiking practice has officially doubled for today because of the misses, but Bokuto keeps making them.

“All right, we’re doing extra practice after hours, don’t look so down,” he reprimands him, and Bokuto nods sadly at him, his once-spiky hair doing a sad floppy baby owl imitation. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a first year surreptitiously pass money to a Washio. “Washio, what are you doing.”

“Lunch money,” he says promptly, as if that explains everything, and Akaashi lets it go, even if he doesn’t want to create the impression that he spoils Bokuto all the time like this.

( _I don’t. Shut up, brain._ )

It goes well enough, even as the rest of the team hang around (they’ll be gone before they finish spiking practice, but occasionally they wait up for Bokuto to treat them to meat buns), until the main culprit goes and ruins it, of course.

“Okay, okay, but consider this,” Bokuto says. He stops in the middle of the court, and Akaashi raises an eyebrow in disbelief: they're only at 184 spikes and Bokuto _never_ lets him catch a break, what is up with him today?

“So, yeah.” he shifts from one foot to another. His shorts are riding up his thighs and _no, Akaashi Keiji, this is not the time for lewd thoughts about Bokuto-san's kneepads,_ “get to the point, Bokuto-san.”

"So. Hypothetically speaking, if we were," he looks up with huge golden eyes, a little too beseeching to be not unsettling, "closer –"

"You're six inches away from my face, Bokuto-san." he points out.

"THE POINT BEING," he interrupts, "if we, yknow, called each other by our first names..." He trails off, looking pensive, and Akaashi considers this. "All right. Do you want to call me Keiji, Koutarou-san?"

Bokuto makes a noise. Akaashi is not sure what to call that noise. It sounds like a cross between a dying screech-owl (really, Bokuto should stop looking like he's the personal Fukurodani mascot if he wants to avoid that comparison) and someone being run over by a truck. Possibly also the hoot of the truck’s horn as the horrified driver turns on the brakes.

This is a very morbid line of thought.

“Okay, no, no, that’s not – whatever, okay, just, if I lost my memory, you’d like, call me out on it, right? Like, tell me that it happened? Hey, Akaashi, don’t just stand there!”

“Do you want me to sit down? And where did these questions even come from?” He’s beginning to sweat a little, because Akaashi is very, very fucked if Bokuto discovers his miniscule crush, and this line of questioning is treading dangerous territory.

“No but –” Bokuto stops for a moment, thinks again, and his expression brightens. Akaashi belatedly realizes that he’s kind of drooping, and maybe they should’ve stopped practice after all those extra spikes earlier, when he asks. “So if I forgot my memory,” (that doesn’t even make sense, Bokuto-san!) “what would be the first thing you told me?? Provided that we’re calling each other by first names. Hypothetically. If I was calling you K-Keiji, and you were calling me,” he handwaves the last bit, looking embarrassed.

Akaashi is usually a merciful person, but sometimes the temptation to mess with Bokuto is too much.

"You used to call me Keiji, Koutarou-san" he says, in a perfectly deadpan voice.

***

"So he...tripped on the balls, and went face first into your ribs, and then passed out because he was dehydrated?" 

“I swear to god I don't know,” Akaashi says in an exasperated voice. “All I did was calling him Koutarou-san – once, just once, oh my god,” but the damage is done, and Konoha bursts out laughing. “Oh my god, you two are more married than I thought.”

Akaashi pinkens. “Shut up, Konoha-kun. SARUKUI-KUN, STOP SMILING –”

“I'm NOT smiling,” Sarukui says helplessly, while Konoha starts laughing harder, that bastard. Akaashi twitches, his temper slowly collecting in the palm of his hand (usually there's a volleyball around to take it out on, and an extremely willing spiker) when someone (he’s not sure who, since the entire team is outside the sick room) says “I can’t believe he missed a shot _and_ tripped over the balls,” and then Komi is on the floor laughing like a man possessed, and Konoha is laughing even harder, and Akaashi is not the person who one day snaps and goes on a killing spree, but he’s feeling the tinges of bloodthirst begin to start.

(It might just be all the blood rushing to his face in that moment, though.)

“All right, you’re free to go, Bokuto-kun, but do try to keep yourself hydrated the next time,” the nurse says, and everyone snaps to attention as Bokuto comes out of the room. Komi’s the first one to leap at him.

“What the hell, _captain_!! We’d all already left school, y’know!”

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again, I promise!” Bokuto’s smile is bright as the sun, and Akaashi’s really, really fucking gay, because then his captain looks up and smiles at him nervously, “I’m sorry, Akaashi, I won’t scare you like that again, hey? ” and it makes him feel like someone injected helium into his stomach. His voice comes out unnaturally high and he hopes to god no one notices. “Don’t do that the next time, okay?” He turns away, picking up his bag, when the idea strikes him. “I’ll walk you home today, in case you decide to faint on the road again.”

“Whoa, really? THAT’S SO NICE OF YOU AKAASHI, I COULD HUG YOU.” He bounds over to him, grabbing his own bag from the floor before following him out as Akaashi speedwalks away; ignoring the nurse’s distressed “don’t strain yourself, especially in this hot weather, you’re not fully healed yet!” and the audible snickers of the team. “Seriously though, how can I thank you?”

He could say it now, change everything about their current dynamics, but he's too afraid, and more than a little tempted to mess with him.

So Akaashi pauses, making sure they’re out of hearing range of the team and outside in the school yard before he replies. “For starters? Start calling me Keiji, Koutarou-san.”

He doesn’t hear footsteps for a while and turns around to see Bokuto go wide-eyed for a whole second before he sways on his feet. “Oh for god’s sake.”

***

Konoha looks down quizzically at Bokuto on the sick room bed before turning to Akaashi and waggling his eyebrows. “Just give him the kiss of life, Keiji-kun.”

“ _Shut up, Konoha-san_.”

**Author's Note:**

> character development (!!!!) and kuroo (!!!!!!!!!!!) in the next chapter. i'm so sorry.


End file.
